Sleepers
by Lady Jaye1
Summary: Cobra gets its hands on a secret program once run by the head of the Jugglers.  The Joes are forced to face a danger not only manufactured by General Malthus, but a danger with a hauntingly familiar face.
1. The Walls of Troy

_**Disclaimer: I don't own GI Joe.**_

_***Note:**__ This story follows the recently continued Larry Hama continuity. There is no Kamakura in this, as he appears in a different Joe canon universe and the story takes place time wise before he becomes Kamakura anyway. However, possible future fics in this AU verse may bring him in since the "Sean Collins" character was created by Hama and therefore technically exists in his universe, even if he isn't a ninja (yet). In the most recent issues of __GI Joe: A Real American Hero__, for those who haven't read the newest issues yet, Storm Shadow escaped from his brainwashing. Billy's mind was taken over by the digitally saved personality of Dr. Venom. Snake Eyes was brainwashed by the brainwave scanner, but was freed by Storm Shadow. Together, Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow freed Billy from his brainwashing and helped remove Dr. Venom from his mind. The Baroness also seems to have escaped from her brainwashing._

_From here on out, this is obviously my own fan AU, which will pull primarily from the Hama verse and occasionally elements from the IDW and Devil's Due continuities. There also some slight changes that I have made. For instance, Doc is still alive in my continuity. I like the guy, so yeah, he's still here._

_*Also, special thanks to willwrite4fics for both letting me bounce ideas off her and for her being my beta for this story._

* * *

><p>Wearied of the war,<br>and by ill-fortune crushed, year after year,  
>the kings of Greece, by Pallas' skill divine,<br>build a huge horse, a thing of mountain size,  
>with timbered ribs of fir. They falsely say<br>it has been vowed to Heaven for safe return,  
>and spread this lie abroad. Then they conceal<br>choice bands of warriors in the deep, dark side,  
>and fill the caverns of that monstrous womb<br>with arms and soldiery.

_Aeneid__, by Vergil_

**Sleepers **

_Chapter 1: The Walls of Troy_

_The past._

He sat there. Minutes ticked by and still he sat, an immobile statue fixed in place as it waited for…something. A half empty cup of cold coffee, long forgotten, stood sentinel next to a slim folder, upon which a general's hat sat. There was an open file in front of the silent man.

"Sir?" A knock at the door drew his attention away from his musings. General Malthus, the leader of a secret cabal of generals known as "the Jugglers," looked up. Standing in the doorway was his faithful protégé, codenamed "Sinon" for the purposes of this particular project. Malthus was himself going by the codename "Odysseus."

Malthus eyed the folder in the other man's hands. He hoped that this was what he had been waiting for.

"Is that it?" the general asked. The other man nodded. Malthus took the folder and opened it up to find a detailed list of the incoming candidates for the GI Joe team. He studied each name intently and jotted down names to review further. As the general read through the roster, his eyes paused at a name. He looked at it for a while before a smile grew on his face.

"This one's perfect."

"I'll see to it, then," Sinon replied after he was shown the name. "I'll begin making the preparations."

General Malthus nodded. He leaned back in his chair and fought back a yawn. Project Odysseus was working out much better than he'd hoped. The program, of course, wasn't an "official" government program and would probably be considered "illegal." That didn't matter to the general, however. All records of the program would either be erased or deeply hidden. Everyone involved with it had been chosen specifically by him. Malthus trusted in their loyalty and commitment.

Less than two weeks later, the general stood quietly in the back of a large room and waited. He heard voices murmuring as three individuals made their way in his direction. The door opened to reveal Sinon and another agent, codenamed "Athena." Behind them was the GI Joe recruit, who had been summoned for a meeting by a superior officer. The soldier looked around with wary curiosity.

"Welcome," Malthus told the recruit. "You may refer to me as General Odysseus. I have a job for you."

The soldier gave him a questioning look.

Malthus smiled while he reassured the young soldier. They sat down at a small table. The general spoke with the soldier about the upcoming assignment with GI Joe. Athena served them all a cup of coffee, taking care to give the recruit one that had been spiked with a tasteless drug.

It took about two minutes for the drug to take effect. The GI Joe recruit's eyes opened wide when it became apparent that something wasn't right. However, by that point the soldier's body had become limp. Sinon easily carried the conscious, but immobile figure over to the station they had prepared. They had needed the soldier conscious, but unable to fight back. The soldier's eyes stared at a chair hidden in the back of the room. Arm and leg restraints very clearly stood out on it.

A pleased General Malthus watched as the conditioning began. Soon, this soldier would be one of many "recruits." Like the mythical Trojan horse, they would all bear a hidden soldier inside…though in this case, the soldier was a constructed personality that was hidden deep within a recruit's psyche. The sleepers of the Odysseus Project were completely loyal to Malthus and would occupy key positions that would give him access to information. If a situation developed that required direct action, the sleeper would fully activate and take matters into his or her hands.

Spies and assassins. They were the perfect tools, especially since the carriers were unaware of their passengers.

The initial programming took just over ten hours. Any longer than that and there would have been suspicions concerning the soldier's noticeable absence. Over the course of the next year, Malthus and his staff would coordinate their schedules for when recruit #31 had leave off base. "Refresher" implants further solidified and completed the programming.

For the next few years, Malthus's sleepers served him well. Recruit #31 had been accepted as a member of GI Joe. Once this had happened, the general allowed the sleeper to pick a codename, though its "carrier" remained unaware of the hidden passenger. Through his loyal soldier, the leader of the Jugglers was able to keep tabs on his associate, Clayton Abernathy. At least until…

A stunned Malthus looked down at the receipt in his hands. Destro bid him goodbye and left him to the media cameras, the angry Joes, and the United States government. All of his machinations to plant the blame for the Cobra Island fiasco onto Hawk and Hollingsworth had now failed. His own attempt to kill the two generals with a grenade and to discredit GI Joe had also failed. His unfortunate future was pretty much guaranteed.

He was condemned to several years in a Fort Leavenworth prison by a military court. When Malthus was led out of the courtroom, he briefly met the piercing eyes of the Joes' Tomahawk. They locked gazes for the longest of moments. A heavily armed MP forced him to keep moving. Hawk looked insufferably pleased as Malthus was led away.

The clank of the barred doors shut on him. Malthus sat. Like a lonely sentinel, the condemned military leader kept watch from his prison cell. Many of his secrets had been dragged out during his hearing. Hawk and Hollingsworth had managed to dig up quite a bit of dirt on Malthus. However, they hadn't found _everything_. There were many things that they were still unaware of.

A pair of dark eyes peered out of the prison cell bars. Malthus clasped both hands under his chin as he mused. There was nothing else for him to do in prison but think and plan.

His sleepers were still out there, his precious, loyal soldiers. General Malthus vowed to do whatever it took to regain control of his program and to prevent anyone else, particularly Hawk or even General Crowther, from getting their hands on it. When an opportunity eventually presented itself four years later, Malthus took it.

* * *

><p><em><span>Now<span>_

"Oh, this is too rich."

Cobra Commander was in an excellent mood, all things considering. He'd unfortunately lost Storm Shadow and his son Billy. The Arashikage ninja had not only managed to escape, but with the help of the Joes, had freed a temporarily brainwashed Snake Eyes as well as Billy. The brainwave scanner's effect on the Baroness had also worn thin. If anything, Cobra Commander should still be in a raging fury.

Good news tended to change one's mood for the better and he had very good news. The terrorist leader smiled as he considered the newest piece of Intel, slipped to him by a former associate that was rotting in the Fort Leavenworth prison. Even now, Malthus was proving to be full of wonderful surprises.

"What have you found…"

"…that is so interesting…"

"…dear Cobra Commander?"

The arrival of the Crimson twins cemented his good mood. Tomax and Xamot were irritating to deal with at times, but they were loyal and trustworthy members of Cobra. Seeing as they were also the leaders of his Crimson Guard, Cobra Commander had good reason to confide in the two businessmen.

"Hawk's got a mole and he doesn't even know it," the Cobra leader explained cheerfully. He started laughing a moment later. This was _too_ good. The Joes would never live this one down. Malthus was a genius.

The twins exchanged looks before giving him an identical raised eyebrow. Tomax sat down, followed shortly by Xamot. Cobra Commander waited impatiently for them to settle in before he began briefing them on his newest prize. Both men were all smiles once they realized the implication of what Cobra now had in its possession.

"Interesting," Tomax mused. "Very interesting indeed."

"I agree," Xamot added. "However, what do we do about Malthus? He's only given you a nugget. We've got the names of his sleepers, but we still don't know yet how to activate and use them."

"I know," Cobra Commander admitted. "Malthus is smart. He doesn't want his program to go to waste and he still wants to be in control of it. Our good general knows that we still need him."

"How did he even slip this out past the Leavenworth guards?" one of the twins asked. Cobra Commander tapped his finger on the table a moment before explaining. Malthus apparently still had many soldiers who were loyal to him. A high ranking military officer, who had only identified himself as "Sinon", had followed secret orders to deliver information to Cobra. Sinon had made it quite clear that Malthus expected Cobra's "assistance" in return for more information.

"I think we should arrange an escape for the dear general," Cobra Commander told his Crimson Guardsmen. "Get it done. Sinon won't cooperate further until we've gotten Malthus out."

"What do you plan to do once we've got Malthus out?" Xamot asked.

Cobra Commander debated on his answer. He'd been turning this over in his mind ever since Malthus's lapdog had given him information on Project Odysseus. The Joes' mole was very useful to him. He could keep the sleeper in place for now; however, this particular Joe was in a position to cause a lot of damage and chaos. Cobra Commander couldn't wait to see the look on Hawk's face when he found out what was underneath his nose. The terrorist leader cackled in glee at the thought.

"For now, we'll wait," Cobra Commander finally answered. "You can't rush a show as good as this. Malthus rolled a damned Trojan horse into the Pit and the horse doesn't even know it's got something hiding inside. It's a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and I didn't even put it there, but I'm sure as hell going to use it." That was the greatest irony of all. Cobra Commander hadn't planned for this particular weapon and had certainly not been expecting that something like it would fall into his lap. Now he had a good little soldier and spy to use as not only for physical work, but as a psychological weapon.

"Then?" Tomax ventured to ask. Cobra Commander smiled maliciously underneath his blue mask. Oh, but how he was going to savor the 'then' part. It was with great satisfaction that he answered the twins.

"We're going to burn down the walls of Troy and everyone inside. Or rather, we'll let our 'horse' do that."

* * *

><p><em><span>Three weeks later.<span>_

"Well?"

General Hawk regarded the blonde psychiatrist standing next to him. For the moment, the two men were watching several ninja spar in the Pit dojo. As they looked on, Storm Shadow paused long enough to correct Billy's form. They resumed a few seconds later.

Psyche Out indicated his head towards the door and the general followed him out. As they had learned the hard way, Thomas Arashikage had very keen hearing. Lifeline and Doc were having a field day trying to figure out how the ninja had such above average hearing, which was nearly as sensitive as that of a dog. According to Snake Eyes, his sword brother had mastered an Arashikage technique known as the "Ear that Sees."

"They're all doing well, all things considering," the Joes' psychiatrist reported. "However, the mental and emotional wounds are deep. It will take time for all of them to recover, especially Billy and Storm Shadow." Those two in particular had been under Cobra mind control for years. Hawk nodded his head, having expected that those two would struggle more.

"Billy is having nightmares," Psyche Out continued. "And the occasional hallucination. I strongly suspect that Storm Shadow is as well, but so far he's not cooperating very well in our meetings. He refuses to admit to any of it."

"He'll cooperate if he wants to stay in GI Joe," Hawk replied. "I'll have another talk with him."

"If I may ask, what are you going to do about Billy?" Kenneth Rich asked. The Joe psychiatrist was very concerned about all of his patients, but he was particularly concerned about the youngest one.

"He'll stay for the moment," the general answered. They were still trying to determine what to do with Cobra Commander's son. The young man, nineteen years old now, was technically old enough to fight for his country if he wished. He'd had extensive training from Storm Shadow both during their brief interlude from Cobra, as well as during their brainwashing. Billy had already expressed interest in serving in GI Joe and both his mentor and Snake Eyes had supported the idea. Tommy was also adamant that he be able to continue his protégé's training.

There was also the issue that Billy was an automatic target. They could put him into protective custody, but Hawk strongly suspected that either Cobra would find him anyway, or the headstrong young man would try to find a way out of custody. Considering the extensive mental and emotional trauma that had been inflicted on him by the boy's so called father, it was far better to keep him at the Pit where Psyche Out could examine him. Hawk again doubted that Billy would willingly submit to the care of any other psychiatrist but a GI Joe one. There was too much of Thomas Arashikage in the young man, despite the fact that they shared no blood.

"Once you consider him fit for duty, I'll put him to work around the base," Hawk said. No doubt the boy would try to volunteer for missions, but for now, he was going to have to make do with things like guard duty. Besides, Beach Head had already made it quite clear that he thought Billy should train with the greenshirts since the young man hadn't had any military training. All of this of course meant that young William would be treated as the youngest soldier on base, even though he was a civilian and would also be treated as such. The kid couldn't exactly go through basic training without exposing himself to Cobra or making his unit a target.

Therefore, the short term solution was to keep Billy with the Joes and to occupy him with tasks that would keep him out of trouble for the time being. Hawk and his command staff weren't exactly happy with it, but it was what they had to do.

The two men separated after a few more minutes of discussion. General Hawk walked briskly through the halls of the underground GI Joe base. Men and women saluted him as he walked by. Clayton Abernathy gave them all respectful nod in return. The general felt his lips quirk up when he passed by a trio of Joes. Two of the three, Rock 'n Roll and Clutch, were supporting a limping Outback.

"Do I need to know what happened, gentlemen?" he asked dryly. He received three slightly alarmed looks and three negative shakes of the head. Hawk chuckled quietly as he walked by the three men. He commanded an elite group of men and women…all of whom had their own idiosyncrasies. Rock 'n Roll, Clutch, and Outback had no doubt been bored and had decided to do something "fun," resulting in unintended injuries. They were sure to get an earful from Doc and Lifeline.

Hawk chuckled again. He was certain that he commanded the strangest unit in the entire United States military, but he wouldn't trade any of them for the world. Clayton Abernathy felt that he was blessed that he could rightfully claim to be able to trust each and every soldier under his command with complete confidence. Even Storm Shadow, who had once been an enemy and was still struggling with the aftereffects of Cobra's brainwave scanner, had sworn an oath of loyalty to serve Hawk and the United States government.

The general trusted in the man's oath. As a ninja, Thomas Arashikage did not pledge his service to just anyone. This was especially true considering that the government had offered the ninja a deal that would wipe his criminal record clean in exchange for five years of military service.

A short beeping noise caught his attention. Hawk looked down at the small pager that had been tucked into a pocket. He pulled it out and saw a simple message. "Phone call."

Hawk walked into the Pit's communications center a few minutes later. Dial Tone was waiting patiently for him. The soldier handed him a phone. Clayton Abernathy was incredibly displeased to find General Crowther, the current leader of the Jugglers, on the other line.

"What do you want Crowther?" he asked with polite coldness. Hawk barely hid the snarl that threatened to burst out of his throat. Crowther was as corrupt as Malthus had been, only Crowther was doing a better job of being slightly more subtle about it. The man didn't actively try to raise Hawk's hackles, but he still went behind the back of the GI Joe general. The two men had butted heads more than once.

"_We've got a problem,"_ General Crowther told him. _"We need to deal with it now."_ The man emphasized the word 'now.'

"I've got problems too. This had better be good," Hawk responded. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in some political infighting again, though he would do it if necessary. Hawk didn't want the pencil pushers at the Pentagon to suddenly decide to cut GI Joe's funding again.

"_Not this big,"_ the other man replied. _"Malthus has escaped from Fort Leavenworth and it's entirely possible that Cobra helped him. However, we don't know what Cobra wants him for…if it WAS Cobra."_

There was a long moment of silence as Hawk digested this newest information. He felt something nasty sink into the pit of his stomach. The last time he'd run into Malthus, the man had tried to blame him for something that had been out of his control, had managed to get him admitted to a psychiatric hospital on false pretenses, had then tried to discredit HIS Joes as out of control rogues, and then had tried to kill him. As if that wasn't enough, an appearance by Destro had confirmed that General Malthus had been dealing with Cobra behind all their backs.

"…Can you meet me tomorrow?" Hawk asked.

"_I'm on the plane now. I'll be at the Pit in about three hours."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>*Story note:<strong>__ The idea for Storm Shadow serving five years in the military in exchange for his records being wiped clean comes from Karama9's stories._


	2. The Bearer of Bad Tidings

_Note: A character is introduced, whose surname is Yun. Yun is pronounced 'Yoon.' Also, another special thanks to willwrite4fics for betaing and offering commentary on the chapter draft._

**Sleepers**

_Chapter 2: The Bearer of Bad Tidings_

_Washington D.C._

"Let's cut straight to the chase, shall we?"

General Hawk leaned slightly forward to eye his current target. His target, Matthew Harris, was the director of the CIA's clandestine service, as well as a former associate of a certain, missing general. Lean and fit, the former Naval intelligence officer's brown hair was greying at the temples. There was a hard expression on his face when he answered Hawk.

"I don't know where General Malthus is, Abernathy."

Hawk exchanged glances with General Crowther before he refocused his attention on the man in front of them. While the Joes were busy trying to determine if Cobra was behind the escape, Clayton Abernathy had the unfortunate displeasure of being in Washington D.C. again…with General Crowther, no less. He and Crowther were currently questioning a few individuals who had most closely been associated with Malthus in the past.

The GI Joe general shifted slightly in his seat. He fixed one of his nonsensical stares on the CIA director. Harris stared back at him. However, Hawk detected a slight twinge in the man's eyes. Harris soon looked away.

"I haven't had any contact with him since his court martial," Matthew Harris added. "And I sure as hell don't know what Cobra wants with him." The man paused a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Do you even know that it _was_ Cobra?"

"We have good reason to think so," General Crowther told the man. It had been two days since the head of the Jugglers had contacted Hawk about Malthus's escape. Two days since Hawk had been forced to work with the oily bastard, while worrying about the _other_ oily bastard that was on the loose.

What was it his mother always said? "When it rains, it pours."

Sometimes there was hail and a lightning storm too. When he was damn unlucky, he got a tornado.

"Like what?" Harris asked. The CIA director didn't seem very convinced, especially since there wasn't any hard evidence yet to link the escape to Cobra. At best, there was circumstantial evidence, such as the type of weaponry used by the highly trained, but nondescript, masked men who had managed to hold off trained Army correctional officers, MPs, as well as Marine Corps and Air Force personnel. That same weaponry was the kind often favored by Crimson Guardsmen.

Lady Jaye and Chuckles also suspected that there must have been help from the inside. If the Crimson Guard was involved, they probably had a man at Fort Leavenworth. Malthus possibly had a few loyal people there too.

"Enough to make us at least suspect Cobra," Hawk told him. Harris had worked in intelligence for years. The man had to at least consider that Cobra was a likely suspect based on what evidence they had. After some probing, the CIA director finally grunted slightly in resignation. However, he still seemed uncertain.

"Could have been Cobra, could have been someone else," Harris drawled, his Kentucky accent drifting through. "Cobra's one of the top players in the weapons black market."

Hawk conceded the point. However, he still wasn't convinced that his hunch was wrong. He and Crowther continued to question Harris for nearly twenty more minutes. When it became apparent that they were just going in circles, a weary Clayton Abernathy finally dismissed the man.

The next two hours was spent grilling a man by the name of Armen Remzi from the Defense Intelligence Agency. Hawk and Crowther received similar results. That was now two former Malthus cronies who had so far claimed complete innocence and ignorance regarding the disgraced general's whereabouts.

That left one more man for the day.

A tall man of Asian descent walked into the room. In stark contrast to the previous men, this one had a friendly smile on his face. Hawk refused to let himself relax because of it. In his rather extensive experience with politicians and intelligence operatives, a disarming smile was often a more useful weapon that a glare.

The man continued to exude a friendly air as he sat down. Hawk studied him over the edge of his hands. This particular crony was Theodore Bae Yun, an Army officer who had recently been promoted to colonel. He had graduated second in his class from West Point.

"First of all, I'd like to congratulate you on your promotion," Hawk said politely. Crowther offered similar congratulatory praise. The third occupant of the room politely accepted the compliments with a lopsided grin.

"Thank you, sir," Yun replied. "Also, it's a huge honor to finally meet you. I know you and Malthus didn't exactly 'get along', but…" The man continued to chatter on.

It seemed that he had a talker and a possible brownnoser on his hands. Hawk could deal with that, perhaps even use it to his advantage. Again, however, he forced himself not to be lulled into a false sense of security. Talking could be used as a diversionary tactic. Often, it was the talkers you had to be careful of, as they were the ones that usually tried to trip you up.

"…As you probably know, my parents emigrated from South Korea. I was their first kid born on American soil. They were so proud that they wanted to give me a strong 'American' name, so they named me after Theodore Roosevelt." The man's chest practically puffed out with pride. Hawk very deliberately didn't roll his eyes. Crowther, however, wasn't so self-disciplined…or he didn't care if Yun saw it.

"We're not here to talk about your name," Crowther said sharply. "You know what we want." Yun's smile slipped slightly. It was up again a moment later. The newly promoted colonel casually sat at attention in his chair. He was much more comfortable with the questioning so far than his previous two associates.

"I exchanged a few letters with General Malthus while he was in prison, but that was it," Yun admitted. "I still have the letters from him if you wish to look at them. I'm afraid I have nothing else to offer you, as I don't know where he might be at or why he was busted out."

That was all Hawk and Crowther got out of him. Yun had apparently had the foresight to bring the letters with him. After he was dismissed, the two generals read through the letters, but found nothing of significance. Clayton secured the letters anyway, figuring that he'd have Lady Jaye and Chuckles examine them later.

"That went well," Crowther grumbled. "Of course they all deny knowing anything, the little weasels. And did you find Yun damn annoying too?" Hawk very tactfully didn't point out that Crowther himself was a weasel and that _he_ would deny having any dirt on his hands. Clayton Abernathy was almost positive that the Juggler had mud on his hands, as well as blood. However, he said none of these.

"So…what now?" Crowther asked. "There are a few more people we can question, but I doubt we'll get a different answer."

"I should check with my people," Hawk replied. "And see what they've found from their end."

"Hmph…I hope they've had better luck than us."

* * *

><p>Lady Jaye frowned as she read through file after file of Intel. Whoever had stormed Fort Leavenworth was good. Not only had the shock troops been well trained and well-armed, but the operation itself was ingenious. The layout of the military prison, its security codes, guard shifts, positions of personnel, everything…they must have known it all to pull this off.<p>

"How goes it?" Flint asked her. Her lover sat down next to her at the table, looking slightly fatigued. The Joes had been running themselves ragged the last couple of days over the Malthus affair. It didn't help that situations were also currently brewing in Sierra Muerte and the Congo.

"It appears that a few of them posed as military personnel," Lady Jaye replied. The group, codenamed 'Oz' until Cobra's involvement was substantiated, had taken out most of the security cameras. However, the security system's backup support had managed to get a few shots of the impersonators.

"Look at this," she said, moving two photos closer to the warrant officer. Tech had magnified and sharpened the impersonators' faces. There were two different photos, taken in two different locations and of three different men. "If you look past the fact that the hair color is different, one is wearing glasses, and the third has facial hair…they all have the same facial structure. Mainframe's already run it through the facial imaging program. Perfect matches."

"The Crimson Guard," Flint sighed. "Have we found anything else?"

"Psyche Out's going through the profiles of everyone on duty at the prison that day," she replied. "And he's also going through the files of Malthus's associates. I told him to have a report ready by 0900 tomorrow."

"That's all we can do for the moment," the warrant officer told her. He looked at his watch a moment before standing up. Bones popped when he stretched out his stiff arms. Flint looked around before bending down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "I've got to go. Problems in Sierra Muerte and all that. We're sending an extraction team now for them."

"Is Duke covering the Congo problem?" she asked.

Lady Jaye received a nod of acknowledgment. The warrant officer left her and returned to the command and control center to make sure some Joes came back home alive. Alison Hart-Burnett whispered a short prayer before returning to her work.

* * *

><p><em>That night.<em>

A fist knocked loudly on his door. Hawk sat up in his bed and looked at the clock. It was barely 2100, but he was exhausted. The fist knocked again. This time, Gung Ho's voice drifted through the door and announced that he had a visitor. Clayton Abernathy stood up and quickly buttoned on a shirt.

When the door opened, he was surprised to see Theodore Yun standing behind Gung Ho, who had been standing guard at his door.

"Sir," the Marine saluted. "Colonel Yun is here to see you." Hawk hid his surprise at the unexpected visit. He stepped aside and allowed Yun to step inside. Clayton dismissed the Marine, even though Gung Ho seemed half convinced that he should be at his general's side.

Hawk sat on the edge of his bed and offered his surprise visitor the only chair in his hotel room. The colonel hesitated slightly before sitting down and looking at him.

"Sir…I lied before. I didn't tell you everything," Yun told him. Hawk didn't say anything while he waited for the man to continue. The other man hesitated a long moment before going on awkwardly.

"I want you to understand…I had respected Malthus," Theodore Yun continued. "He was my superior officer. When I worked for him…I thought I was doing my patriotic duty. Now…" He made a helpless gesture. "I'm not so sure."

"Why come to me now?" General Hawk finally asked quietly. "And why me instead of Crowther?"

"With all due respect sir…I don't trust General Crowther."

Well, at least they were in agreement about one thing.

"During General Malthus's court martial," Yun continued. "Not…everything was uncovered. He was involved in many things, things as far as I know, are still operational. That may be what Cobra, or whoever it was, wants."

Hawk leaned forward slightly, growing more interested. He'd suspected that Malthus had been involved in more than they knew. However, he was still somewhat suspicious as to why Yun was coming forward now.

"Things like what?" the general probed. Yun looked distinctly uncomfortably, which was understandable. The man risked a court martial for having held back important information during Malthus's hearing, as well as probable involvement in some of the Juggler's operations.

"Do you remember that military coupe in Haiti in '91, when the Haitian army overthrew their president?" Yun asked. "Malthus was involved with that. He's also on a first name basis with the head of the Tijuana Cartel."

"And you thought you were doing your 'patriotic duty' by aiding him?" Hawk asked coldly. Even though he was pleased about the information, he wasn't about to completely let Yun off the hook. Yun, however, at least had the courtesy to wince slightly at the rebuke.

"I suppose I deserved that," Yun mumbled. He muttered something in Korean before regaining his composure a moment later. "However, that's an argument for a different time. I…I don't know everything Malthus was involved in…but the sleeper program is one of the things I'm aware of."

Hawk listened with rapt attention while his informant outlined the basics of the program, which had apparently been known as "Project Odysseus," as a reference to the mythical Trojan horse. It seemed to involve severe mental conditioning of "recruits", before those said recruits were sent off to staff various key government, military, and business positions.

"Were you involved in this?" Hawk finally asked carefully. Theodore Yun shook his head.

"No," he replied. "Malthus kept me out of it mostly. I only know minor details and can't even be sure who was all involved. They used codenames to prevent their actual identities from becoming known, in case news of the program was ever leaked."

"And Remzi and Harris?" Hawk asked, referring to the two other men he'd questioned earlier that day. Both Armen Remzi and Matthew Harris had been very tight lipped concerning Malthus. Yun sighed before answering.

"I don't know. They were in as deep as me, but we weren't always aware of what the other was doing. Malthus preferred it that way."

Hawk thought a moment before responding.

"Thank you for your honesty, Theodore," he replied. "We will have to investigate your claims first, but you seem to be telling the truth. We'll look into it further." Hawk stood up. The other man took that as his cue that their chat was over. Yun stood up and tucked his hat underneath his arm.

"I'll do anything I can to help," the man replied. "I've got some things to answer for…things that could stain my military record. If I can do anything to wipe some of that away, I will."

"Thank you," Hawk told him. Yun nodded at him. The man leaned forward to grasp the door knob and paused. His hand hovered over it a moment before he pulled it back. The smaller man turned his head to look at him once more.

"Sir…Malthus had his sleepers infiltrate a lot of places. Seeing as he didn't trust you, he may have placed one on the Joe team. If you look into this more deeply, you should probably be careful of that."

The colonel bid him good night and exited the hotel room. Gung Ho stood at rapt attention while Yun walked past him. The Marine glanced at Hawk before looking away. Hawk wasn't sure if he had heard any of their conversation. His Joes knew better to eavesdrop, but sometimes voices carried, especially to curious and suspicious ears.

Possible sleepers on his Joe team…

Hawk felt a deep chill crawl up his back. He shook it off and went back inside his room. For the next hour or so, he sat on his bed and stared at the wall. Crowther…he had been associated with Malthus in the past too. He deserved questioning as much as Yun and the other two men did. For all Clayton knew, the man had been aware of the sleeper program.

Fuming now, Hawk threw on the rest of his clothing. He wanted answers and he wanted them _now_. In moments, he, Gung Ho, and Roadblock were on their way to Crowther's house. The general didn't care if the son of a bitch was asleep now or not. They were going to have a talk.

* * *

><p>Crowther was waiting for them when they pulled into his drive. The older man looked distinctly displeased that Hawk had decided to pay him a late night visit. As if to prove his displeasure, the general was still dressed in his night clothes and was wearing a richly colored bathrobe over his garments. Gung Ho and Roadblock waited in the foyer of the house with Crowther's own guards while he and Hawk headed towards a back room.<p>

Hawk immediately rounded on the man. He told him about Yun's visit and ended with the new information about the sleeper program. There may have been a few veiled reminders that Crowther himself had worked with Malthus in the past.

"I've heard rumors of the program," Crowther finally admitted flatly. "But I was never sure that it really existed."

"Is it so really hard to believe?" Hawk asked. "Cobra has brainwashed its own agents before, including several of my men."

"Cobra, Abernathy, not Malthus," the other man reminded him. "And what call do you have to come barging over here in the middle of the night? Couldn't this have waited until the morning?" Hawk leveled a disbelieving stare at the other general.

"You honestly expect me to believe that you only 'heard' about this and thought it was a rumor?" Clayton pointed out bluntly. "You don't just 'hear' about things like this, Crowther. What do you know?"

Crowther's face darkened. The man silently chewed on his lip a moment before looking away, unable to meet Hawk's gaze. He stepped away from Clayton. There was a faint sheen of sweat on the back of his neck. Crowther seemed to realize it and turned around to face Hawk again in an attempt to hide his discomfort.

"One…of my staff turned out to be a sleeper," the Juggler finally admitted. "My former aide-de-camp, to be exact. One of my body guards caught him stealing some of my files. My phone lines were tapped too."

"You mean Anthony Belbins?" Hawk asked carefully. "Didn't he die of a heart attack?" Crowther's face twitched slightly. Clayton was starting to suspect that the man hadn't died of a heart attack at all.

"We interrogated him…and found out about the sleeper program that way," Crowther continued. "Anthony had an artificial personality that had codenamed itself 'Caesar.' The sleeper wouldn't reveal much, but he revealed enough." The general began pacing around the spacious living room. Hawk felt his frown deepen. He was now sure that the aide-de-camp had died another way.

"I confronted Malthus about it, but he denied everything," the Juggler continued. "Anthony…did die, but not from a heart attack. He died from poison. I don't know who or how someone slipped it to him, but they did. It was probably Malthus trying to cover his ass." For a moment, Crowther actually looked somewhat saddened. A moment later, however, the momentary window of human empathy was gone.

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone?" Hawk asked. The other man didn't answer. Fury beginning to boil inside him now, the Tomahawk stepped closer to his colleague and fixed one of his fiercest glares on him. A trickle of sweat ran down the other man's face.

"Tell me Crowther," Hawk rumbled, his voice coming out in a low growl. "Is the reason that you never told _anyone _before because you were hoping to get control of the program for yourself? What if Cobra gets access to Malthus's sleepers?" Crowther backed up a step. The man was making a decisive effort to act unafraid, but Hawk could see the sudden fear in his eyes. Hawk took another step forward.

"Spare me the self-righteous lecture, Abernathy," Crowther replied. More sweat glistened on his face. "You would have done the same."

"You think so?" Hawk's tone sharpened. "Then you don't know me very well."

An uneasy silence settled over the living room. Clayton circled around the other man, as if he were a wolf sniffing its prey. Crowther 's face paled as he grew more and more uncomfortable with the clearly unhappy General Hawk. The general opened his mouth to say something, but only empty air came out. Finally…

"This is _my _home," Crowther finally snarled. "You have no right to come in here and accuse me of…"

"Theodore Yun said that there may be a plant on the Joe team," Hawk cut in, ignoring the man's complaint. "Seeing as _your_ aide-de-camp was a sleeper, then I'd say that it's entirely possible that I may have one…much as I don't want to believe it." Hawk leaned in closer and forced Crowther to take another step backwards towards a nearby wall. He wasn't leaving until he had answers.

"What do you know?" Hawk demanded. "I swear to God, Crowther, if you're keeping any information from me I'll…" He trailed off and let his unspoken threat hang in the air. Crowther's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat. Clayton forcibly reigned himself in.

"The sleeper hinted that there might be one on your team," Crowther finally answered hoarsely. "He never outright admitted it though."

Hawk closed his eyes and counted to ten. His heart rate sped up and it took all of his self-control to keep his cool. He didn't…he couldn't…Clayton trusted all of his Joes. He couldn't have…

"I refuse to believe it," Clayton finally said. He was in self-denial and he knew it. Both Yun and Crowther had just confirmed the existence of the same program and the possibility that Malthus had planted someone on his team. Even while the tactical side of him knew he had to face up to the very real possibility, the other part of Hawk simply wanted to sit down and pretend it was a bad dream.

"You'd better start believing it, Abernathy," Crowther replied sharply, regaining some of his former bluster. "Yeah, I covered up what happened with Tony…but it still happened. He was a sleeper. I don't know if he knew or not before, but the fact remains that he was one of Malthus's dogs."

Heart racing, thoughts whirling…Hawk closed his eyes again in an attempt to stop things from spinning. He opened them again.

"Who?" he heard himself ask calmly. "What qualifications was Malthus looking for in a sleeper? I don't even know what to look for."

"Hell if I know," Crowther grunted. "All I know is that Malthus probably wanted a Joe that he knew he could control…someone to keep tabs on you and GI Joe operations. As for how long…probably before he or she joined the Joes…or after…hell, I don't know! Yun could probably tell you more."

"You interrogated the sleeper," Hawk pointed out. "What did you find out?"

"Not much more than I've already told you. 'Caesar' wouldn't release any names or even how the brainwashing was done."

"But you still knew that the program at least existed," Hawk said. His eyes narrowed slightly. The fucking son of a bitch…he'd known about the program. Crowther had uncovered a god damn sleeper, among his own staff no less and had failed to report it. He'd even interrogated the man and uncovered the possibility that there was a plant on the Joe team, as well as other areas of the government. However, probably in the hopes of gaining control of Malthus's program after his imprisonment, Crowther had kept his damn mouth shut.

Now Malthus was on the loose again and, according to the latest report from the Pit, almost certainly with Cobra.

"You knew, you son of bitch," Hawk continued, briefly losing his hard won control. Somewhere inside of him, the livid part of him was screaming bloody murder. However, the outer part of him was calm and in control…mostly. Clayton was sorely tempted to shove Crowther's ass up against the wall and punch him. However, that would accomplish nothing...especially since he needed to work with the man, slimy bastard that he was. It would be somewhat satisfying though.

"I suspected you might have one too, but I wasn't sure," Crowther denied. His face had paled a shade. "And I sure as hell wasn't sure who it might be. The program was likely shut down anyway after Malthus was thrown in Leavenworth."

Hawk took a deep breath. Ignore the fury, focus on the problem. At this point, Crowther and Yun were probably his most important allies in solving this particular situation. It wasn't as if he could go to any of his Joes for help, at least not without alerting a possible sleeper agent. Fucking hell.

"Get some sleep," Crowther said, looking at him. The general straightened his bathrobe and fixed a glare on him. "I'm not exactly happy with you waking _me_ up, but I can understand why you charged over here."

"I'm supposed to sleep knowing that one of my Joes might stab me in the back?" Hawk asked.

"Don't exactly have much of a choice, do you now?"

No, he didn't. Hawk felt his fingers itch to punch the Juggler for withholding information, but he resisted the urge. Like it or not, he needed Crowther. The sick, twisted irony was…right now he could probably trust the man more than the men and women under his command.

* * *

><p>Psyche Out frowned as he stared down at a photo. It contained the image of a familiar, female face. He picked it up and scrutinized it. She had short, brunette hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a face that exuded intelligence. He knew this woman. Her name was Dr. Rachel Tam.<p>

She also was apparently a suspected Malthus flunky.

Kenneth Rich groaned slightly.

He knew Rachel. She was a military psychologist in the Navy. They had met at an international symposium on applied military psychology in Switzerland five years ago. Psyche Out had presented a paper on gender and leader effectiveness on the front lines, while she had presented one on combat stress.

They had talked after the conference and had gone out for coffee. Since then, they had exchanged the occasional letters. Psyche Out had seen her several times since then, usually in a professional capacity. The last time he had finally gathered the courage to ask her on a date.

There had been French cuisine and wine that night…as well as a few other pleasures.

"No, no, no," he muttered to himself. Psyche Out hadn't had any idea that Rachel had connections with General Malthus. According to classified records, however, she'd worked under him for three years.

_Ignore your personal feelings and bias, Kenneth_, he told himself. _Focus on the issue at hand._

Pushing his feelings of dismay away, Psyche Out continued to construct psychological profiles of all Malthus's suspected associates. He'd since finished with an examination of everyone that had been on duty at Fort Leavenworth when Malthus had escaped. That report was ready to go.

He read carefully through Rachel's file and scratched notes onto a pad of paper. When he was finished, he moved on to the next file in the stack on his desk. It was well into the night when he was finally finished with his preliminary report.

* * *

><p>Head throbbing from lack of sleep, Clayton Abernathy gripped his coffee mug as if it were a lifeline. Sleep had eluded him for much of the night. When he'd finally fallen asleep somewhere around four in the morning, a nightmare had woken him up. Hawk could almost still feel the cold steel of a katana blade pressed to his throat.<p>

"Alright Theodore," he said, forcing away his exhaustion. "You've worked with Malthus. What're we looking for?"

Theodore Yun scratched his chin for a moment before yawning. There were dark circles underneath the Army colonel's eyes. Crowther, who was sitting adjacent to the two men, looked equally exhausted. Apparently none of them had gotten much sleep that night.

"Probably someone in the chain of command," Yun answered. "Malthus would have wanted someone who was close to you. Your aide de camp is probably suspect too, as are any close friends you may have on the Joe team." Crowther raised an eyebrow. Neither he nor Hawk had mentioned the dead Anthony Belbins to the colonel.

"It would also probably be someone with access to classified information, right?" General Crowther asked. "Isn't that the point to the sleeper program, having access to information that Malthus wouldn't otherwise have?"

Yun nodded. He dug into his pocket and produced a pen. Finding a scrap of paper, he began jotting down notes for the two generals.

"My best guess is, you'll want someone in the chain of command that's close to you and has access to information. However, it could also be someone outside the command chain…very possibly someone in intelligence…or anyone really who's good at gathering information," Yun said, making neat notes as he talked. That didn't make Hawk feel any better. A good number of his Joes were in a position to do that.

"I've got dozens of Joes on my team, not including greenshirts and other personnel," Hawk sighed. He, of course, wasn't sharing the said roster with Crowther or Yun. The point of this particular meeting was to determine what kind of qualifications would narrow down potential suspects.

"There's another problem to think about," Crowther added. "Did these sleepers volunteer willingly for the job? I mean, is it just simple brainwashing or adding a completely new personality to the host? Anthony…" the general trailed off a moment and eyed Yun before continuing. "My former aide de camp…the 'sleeper' personality didn't act much different than Anthony. He even claimed that he was just another aspect of Tony's preexisting mind…and that the conditioning had simply split up the original personality."

Hawk felt his migraine deepen. Too many factors and unanswered questions. Things had been much simpler even just a mere twenty hours ago. He breathed in deep and rubbed his forehead, trying in vain to smooth the tiredness away.

"Another question, when would the conditioning have taken place?" Hawk asked tiredly. "Before they arrived at the Pit? After? You don't know how many times we screened potential candidates. If something was out of the ordinary, it should have shown up."

"I don't know," Yun apologized. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I wish I knew more."

"Not your fault," Hawk replied quietly. God dammit, he was tired. Just once he'd like a restful day where he didn't have to watch his back. Usually he at least had his Joes to help with the back watching, but now…

It was hard to think with his brain feeling fogged up.

"Are you okay?" Theodore Yun asked, giving him a concerned look. "You don't look well."

"Didn't sleep much," Hawk responded. He raised an eyebrow at the Korean American. "You don't look so good yourself, by the way."

Yun smiled weakly. "I just ratted out my former commanding officer. Either he or some of my former associates will probably come after me." Ah. In his exhausted and stressed state of mind, Hawk hadn't actually considered that. He supposed that he wasn't the only walking, breathing target now. Malthus would be aiming for both of them.

Hawk stared down at the list Yun pushed his way. It did help to narrow the list of suspects down somewhat, but not by much. The general had no idea how he was going to find the possible sleeper himself. If anything, he probably needed a couple more sets of eyes and brains to help him. But who? Pretty much everyone in GI Joe was suspect. Even the people outside the chain of command posed a possible threat, even if not as high a one as the others.

"Would there be any physical signs?" Clayton asked. He had no idea what those physical signs might be, but it was worth asking. Crowther and Yun gave him equally blank looks.

"Signs like what?" Crowther asked.

"I don't know," Hawk sighed. "I was just wondering if the medical records and psychological profiles might have any clues."

"It's a start, I suppose," Yun shrugged. "I'm not sure if you'll find anything though. General Malthus has always been good about covering up his tracks."

Hawk ignored the throbbing pain in his head and tried to think. It was impossible for him to sift through and find a hidden sleeper agent on his own. It was logistically impossible, even if he was somehow able to ignore all his other duties and concentrate on the problem alone. The other two men had apparently come to the same conclusions.

"If you need help looking…" Yun started to offer, but Hawk shook his head. The man had been helpful so far, but he was still a former Malthus associate. For all Clayton knew, Theodore Yun could be a sleeper agent. He wasn't going to give him access to the Joes' roster and personal files.

"Sorry, but I can't," Hawk replied. He rubbed his eyes again. "You said people outside of the chain of command should pose less of a security risk, right?"

"Yes, _'less'_ of a risk," Yun reminded him. "But still a risk nonetheless." He paused and raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're going to bring some of your Joes into this?"

"It's not like he's got much of a choice," Crowther said, speaking up again. "He can't bring too many people in for obvious reasons…it would alert the sleeper and probably cause unneeded suspicion among the ranks. But…"

"But I need someone," Hawk finished. He sighed again. "The question is, who?"

* * *

><p>1100 hours.<p>

Colonel Yun sighed. He tried to ignore the imaginary target that he was certain was now painted across his back. The back of his skull itched. Yun did his best to not look behind him. If there were assassins after him now, he probably wouldn't see or hear them coming.

"Yun!"

A familiar voice bellowed his name. Yun cringed. That would be one of his potential assassins now. Plastering a friendly smile on his face, he turned around and waited for the onslaught. The back of his neck tingled again. He forcibly ignored it while he watched Matthew Harris making a furious beeline in his direction.

Here comes the punch…

Theodore Yun twisted his head and torso to avoid the punch Harris threw at him. Well, at least the man hadn't pointed a gun at him yet. Or stabbed him with a knife. One of the two still might yet come. Red faced now, the CIA director leaned in close to him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harris hissed. "You're telling our secrets. We swore an oath to General Malthus that…" Yun held up a hand to pause the man in his tirade. Once he was certain that they really were alone, he put it back down.

"We also swore oaths to protect and defend the United States of America, including upholding all of its laws," Yun responded. "Come on Matt, open your eyes," he pleaded. "Malthus has sided with Cobra…and he'd been working with them before. I'm supposed to side with a terrorist group?"

"You're in as deep as me and Remzi," Harris pointed out with a growl. The man pointed an accusing finger at him. "You think working with Abernathy is going to save you a court martial? Hah. You'll be lucky if a bullet doesn't get you first." Having spoken his mind, Harris spun around on his heels and strode quickly in the other direction. Yun watched him leave with a blank expression on his face.

"Sorry Matt," Yun muttered, turning back in his original direction. "I didn't have a choice."

For the rest of the day, Colonel Theodore Bae Yun felt as if a target was painted across his body. No matter which direction he faced, he was certain that an assassin's blade or bullet was waiting for him. On multiple occasions over the next several days, he routinely checked to make sure that he still had his sidearm securely hidden on his body.

* * *

><p>Then from the citadel, conspicuous,<br>Laocoon, with all his following choir,  
>hurried indignant down; and from afar<br>thus hailed the people: "O unhappy men!  
>What madness this? Who deems our foemen fled?<br>Think ye the gifts of Greece can lack for guile?  
>Have ye not known Odysseus? The Achaean<br>hides, caged in yonder beams; or this is reared  
>for engin'ry on our proud battlements,<br>to spy upon our roof-tops, or descend  
>in ruin on the city. 'T is a snare.<br>Trust not this horse, O Troy, whate'er it bode!  
>I fear the Greeks, though gift on gift they bear.<p>

_Excerpt from the Aeneid_

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's note:<span>__ Theodore Bae Yun, Matthew Harris, Armen Remzi, and Rachel Tam are my own creations. Also, Rachel Tam's name is an homage to two characters: River and Simon Tam of Firefly. For any Firefly fans reading this, I think you'll appreciate the irony of giving River's family name to a shrink. Also, thanks to Karama9 for the suggestion of Belbins for my fictional, dead aide-de-camp._


	3. Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts

_***Note:** There seems to have been some confusion as to what universe this story takes place. Sleepers is unrelated to my Marvel crossover, Silence, and all related stories. Sleepers takes place in the Hama continuity, with some added elements that are either my own creations, or pulled from other GI Joe verses._

**S****leepers**

_Chapter 3: Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts…_

A slender, but strong hand rested gently on his bare chest. Clayton Abernathy tilted his head slightly to look down at the slumbering woman. Short, light brown hair curled around her pretty face. The general very carefully ran his fingers through a strand of hair. Barbara Larkin yawned and mumbled something into his chest, but didn't wake up.

Hawk sighed in contentment and leaned back into his pillow. It had been chance that had brought him into contact with a certain United States senator. On principle, Clayton usually distrusted most politicians to varying degrees. Barbara, however, had been different. Underneath her charming face was a heart of steel encased gold, complete with a witty sense of humor and a tenacity that he had immediately admired.

Cobra had nearly assassinated that woman. Fortunately, the Joes had been able to interfere. Now, because of good luck, Hawk had found himself a best friend and a lover. He looked down at her again and smiled. Clayton leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes.

_Click._

The sound of a safety disengaging had Hawk moving even before he processed it. His eyes snapped open and his arms shot out. A gun barrel pressed into his head and forced him to lie back down. Time seemed to freeze when a slender hand caressed his chest while the other pointed a Taurus pistol at him. Hawk swallowed and tried to find words to speak. He wanted to ask why.

Why?

"Sorry, love…" Barbara told him. Perfume tickled his nose as she leaned in closer. "I had to do it for Malthus…"

"No!"

Sweat dripped down his body as he shot up in bed and flailed around for his assailant…for his Barbara, but his hands made no physical contact. Hawk opened his eyes to see pitch blackness. His breathing came in sharp, deep gasps as he slowly came to his senses. It was just him, there was no one else. Still breathing heavily, the GI Joe general reached over and switched on a small lamp before burying his face in his hands.

A nightmare. It had just been a nightmare.

_A slender hand caressed him while the other pointed a gun at his head._

Clayton shuddered at the dream. He stared across the room for a while before finally rolling out of bed. The general paced restlessly around his bedroom. Had it come to this, then? Like it or not, anyone could be a sleeper. It could be Duke, Lady Jaye, Stalker….or even Barbara.

Even Barbara.

He groaned and sank into a chair. The general didn't know what to do or who to trust. He could count on Crowther and Yun to a degree, but it wasn't _trust_…not the kind he needed. Clayton honestly didn't know how he was going to resolve this problem. For all he knew, if there _was_ a sleeper on the Joe team….why did it have to be only one? Maybe there were two? Three? Even if he managed to find them and undo the damage that Malthus had done, if it was even possible, that still left all the other unknown agents that had been placed elsewhere.

"I don't know what to do," Hawk muttered. He could never…_would _never admit that to anyone though, except maybe Barbara. The general also didn't intend to give up, because he couldn't and he didn't. But….

What the hell should he do?

Clayton closed his eyes for a long moment and willed himself to think. Paranoia wouldn't help him. The last thing he needed was to start distancing himself from all his friends and soldiers. Alienating himself and them would make it worse. Hawk knew he needed help. He also had an idea of who he might ask, even though there were risks involved. Everyone was suspect.

A sudden jolt hit him.

Could he himself be a sleeper? Hawk shook his head violently. No, no, no…that was impossible and not logical. If he was a sleeper, surely Cobra or the Jugglers would have taken advantage of that. Malthus wouldn't need to place any sleepers on the team to keep tabs on him if he already was a sleeper.

Hawk rubbed the side of his temples to soothe away a new headache. He needed help. Risk or not, Clayton knew that he did…even if only to help retain his own sanity. He couldn't start doubting himself now.

The general took several deep breaths, but his mind refused to slow down. Hawk forced himself to run through a meditation. Having ninjas under your command had its perks. While he would never compare to them in martial skills, Clayton took opportunities to learn when he could.

The meditation failed. Hawk tried it twice more, but each attempt failed as miserably as the first. The general stood back up and began to pace his room once more.

_A slender hand caressed his chest…_

* * *

><p>The whir of helicopter blades stirred his hair while he helped wounded personnel out of the aircraft. Lifeline ignored the <em>thump thump<em> of rotating blades while he helped an injured Stalker to limp down a ramp. The ranger would need to go straight to the infirmary to have the wound cleaned and stitched up. Fortunately, it was a clean wound, meaning that the bullet had passed straight through. Thank goodness for small favors.

Footsteps followed him down the ramp. Behind him, a fatigued Low Light and Airtight carried an unconscious Outback on a stretcher. The sleeping red head was attached to a small chest tube draining system, which sat next to him on the stretcher. It had been a rough mission on all of them, especially Outback.

"Lifeline!"

Edwin Steen shifted his vision slightly to see a dark skinned man standing on the edge of the helipad. Doc was waiting for him with a nurse. Lifeline readjusted his medic pack while he and Stalker walked towards the waiting duo. A couple of medical personnel took Stalker from him while others rushed Outback to the infirmary. The medic unconsciously ran a hand through his disheveled hair before launching into his report.

"Outback is in the most serious condition," Lifeline said. "He received a blunt trauma to his chest when we were caught in an explosion, resulting in fractured ribs and a pneumothorax in his right lung. I inserted a chest tube, so his breathing has stabilized for now. He also sustained a slight concussion and minor bruising." Doc nodded his head as he listened to the report. Lifeline had of course called the most serious injuries in first while they were en route, which was why Outback was now being rushed to the infirmary.

"Low Light, Airtight, and Lift Ticket are fine, other than mild dehydration in Low Light's case, and minor scrapes…the usual thing," the medic said. "I told Low Light to grab a Gatorade for himself and stop by the infirmary after he gets his equipment taken care of." Lifeline and Doc began their walk back to the infirmary, with the nurse dutifully listening to catch what Doc might not remember. They were quite fortunate that Leech, the nurse currently walking beside them, had borderline eidetic memory. She was quite the god send sometimes.

"Stalker sustained a bullet wound to the left quadriceps and shrapnel wounds in his back," Lifeline said as they rounded a corner. "He'll need surgery. Recondo has minor shrapnel wounds as well, in both arms."

The mission itself had started out as a search and destroy mission in Sierra Muerte. Lifeline's team had been sent to investigate a possible Cobra pathogens lab in the South American country, hence why Airtight had come along as well. The fighting had turned dirty and an experimental, bioengineered virus had nearly been released. Fortunately Airtight had managed to contain it and get a few samples. The Joes had destroyed the rest of the lab before Flint had managed to insert an extraction team for them.

Doc nodded his head after the medic finished his report and asked a few more questions. Once they arrived back in the infirmary, both men immediately jumped into their work. Lifeline ignored the fact that he himself was exhausted and had minor injuries, until the Joes' doctor finally ordered him to get looked over by one of the nurses. Lifeline complied.

While Leech cleaned a few of his scrapes, the medic couldn't help but notice a certain ranger loitering outside the door. Lifeline waited until the nurse was finished before he stepped outside of the infirmary. Beach Head was waiting for him.

"Ah see ya'll are back," the ranger grunted. "Anyone dead?" Lifeline shook his head. A faint hint of relief crossed the other man's eyes before disappearing. Despite some opinions to the contrary, Sgt. Major Wayne Sneeden did care about other people. Lifeline now knew the man well enough that he could read the ranger's body language.

"Good," Beach Head replied. "At least you're pulling your weight, scrawny medic that you are."

Lifeline, of course, scowled and snarked back that he wasn't 'scrawny,' causing the ranger to smirk underneath his balaclava before wandering away. Beach Head shot him another semi-disparaging remark about his height before heading back to work. The medic rolled his eyes and stretched his sore muscles before deciding to hit the showers. As much as the ranger liked to tease him, Ed knew it was just window dressing. Beach Head, after all, had an image to maintain.

The medic yawned on his way to the showers. He'd had a difficult time making friends at first in GI Joe and Wayne Sneeden had surprisingly ended up being one of his first friends. Ed had never really figured out how that happened, but he supposed that in a way, both of them were the 'odd man out' in GI Joe.

He and Beach Head had also developed an unspoken agreement early on, before they'd become friends: the ranger prepared the soldiers so they wouldn't die in the field and Lifeline prevented them from dying while they were on a mission. It was a partnership they had forged early on and any death of a soldier always resulted in the two of them sitting quietly out on the obstacle course and drinking sodas. It was their ritual.

Feeling slightly more refreshed by a hot shower and fresh clothing, Edwin was rather keen on a hot meal and then bed. However, life of course, had other plans. Doc called him while he was halfway to the kitchen.

"_Lifeline, I'm sorry to call now,"_ the Joes' doctor said. _"But Hawk wants us in the briefing room in ten minutes."_

There was nothing he could do but obey. When Hawk gave an order, you had damned well follow it. Edwin was too tired to contemplate what Hawk wanted them for or why they weren't meeting in his office, but it had to be important. He snagged a coffee on his way to the briefing room and grabbed a poptart from a vending machine. These would have to hold him for now.

When he finally arrived, Lifeline was surprised to see that Stretcher was there as well. Normally if any of the medics were called, it was just he and Doc, not Stretcher as well…and certainly not all three of them. Edwin bit back a yawn and took a seat. He couldn't help but notice that Hawk seemed on edge about something.

"I apologize for calling you all here on short notice," Hawk began. The general eyed the tired medic a moment before continuing. "Especially you, Lifeline. I know you're tired and you certainly deserve a rest…however…I have a special assignment for all of you."

Lifeline fought back a yawn as he wondered what this special assignment was. If he wasn't so tired, he'd have noticed the way that Hawk's jaw muscles were tensed up, or that his eyes kept flickering down to his sidearm. Doc, however, didn't miss it. Neither, apparently, did Stretcher.

"Sir…" the Joes' doctor asked cautiously. "Are you okay?" Both he and Stretcher were carefully watching Hawk. The sudden tension in the room sunk into the fatigued Lifeline, causing him to sit up straighter. His fingers tightened around the coffee mug.

"We…have a problem," the general said tightly. The three medics listened silently while Hawk told them about Malthus and the sleepers program. No one spoke at first when he was finished. Finally, Stretcher hesitantly broke the uneasy silence.

"Why us?" the other medic asked. "Aren't we just as much a risk? Why tell us?"

"Because…" Hawk sighed. "I need to trust someone. Yes…there is every possibility that one of you is a sleeper….but after much thought, I came to the conclusion that a noncombatant is less of a risk than everyone else. I do have a few others in mind that I plan to bring into the loop as well, but at the moment…the circle needs to remain small."

The general stood up and paced the room for a moment. Tired as he was, Lifeline didn't miss the dark circles underneath the other man's eyes. Hawk seemed to have lost a lot of sleep over this. The medic didn't blame him. He wasn't sure how well he would sleep either, knowing that a fellow Joe might stab him in the back.

"I want the three of you to investigate your fellow Joes," Hawk finally said. "I know this is not your typical duty, nor are the three of you the most qualified for this. However, the Joes who _would_ be doing this are, at the moment, highly suspect."

"Even Psyche Out?" Lifeline asked tiredly. "He should be on the investigative team, shouldn't he?" The medic regretted saying it immediately. One didn't question Hawk's orders. His brain also slowly processed the fact that Psyche Out was easily a likely candidate for a sleeper, seeing as the man was an expert in psychological warfare and profiling. He made as good a candidate as any to keep tabs on Hawk and possibly to manipulate him.

"Even Psyche Out," Hawk said sternly. The general took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. Ed felt the hair on the back of his head raise slightly. In all the years he'd served under Clayton Abernathy, he'd never seen the man this unsettled. That, perhaps more than anything else, drove home just how dire the situation was into his tired brain.

"Believe me, I know Psyche Out would be a welcome member to your team," the general added after a moment, returning to his usual, calm demeanor. Edwin knew, however, that it was just a mask. Hawk was stressing over the situation, even though he was making a very good attempt to hide it. "And if you three conclude that he's not a problem, we'll bring him in."

"What are we supposed to look for?" Doc finally asked. "We don't even know what the process that made the sleeper entails. We can look through the medical histories, but I doubt there will be much evidence…"

Hawk sighed and reluctantly nodded his head. Stress lines creased the corners of his eyes. The general talked to them a few more minutes before finally dismissing them. Doc, however, stayed behind after he shooed the other medics outside. Stretcher and Lifeline found themselves standing outside the briefing room as the door shut on them.

"How much sleep have you been getting?" Doc asked loudly, his voice drifting through before the sound proof door completely shut. Lifeline and Stretcher gave each other a look and very quietly tiptoed away. Inside, they knew that the medical doctor was railing into Hawk for not taking care of himself. Out of everyone in the Pit, Dr. Carl Greer was the only one who could and would criticize the general when necessary.

"What do we do?" Lifeline asked quietly as they walked away. His mind slowly chugged along while his body screamed for sleep. There was a slight buzzing noise in his ears. Edwin sincerely hoped that he wouldn't collapse in the hallway. That would be embarrassing.

"For now…." Stretcher said, eyeing him closely. "_You_ get some sleep. You're no good to us until after you get some shut eye. Doc and I will fill you in later."

Lifeline took the man's advice. If Doc decided that he needed Edwin now, he would wake him up. Otherwise….Edwin cracked a yawn on his way to his bedroom. He shared a room with Stretcher, but since the other medic was likely to be up for a while working, Lifeline had the room to himself.

The medic flopped down on his bed and welcomed the familiar comfort. It was much preferable to snatches of sleep out in the jungle and in dirt holes. He closed his eyes, but a nagging voice prevented him from falling immediately asleep. How were he, Doc, and Stretcher supposed to help find a hidden sleeper? None of them were qualified for this type of investigation.

And who was the sleeper? Edwin couldn't for the life of him fathom which Joe it was. He didn't want to, honestly. The thought of a friend or fellow soldier being a hidden enemy unnerved him. Finally, however, fatigue overcame him and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Corporal Tara Cassidy quietly made her way through the infirmary, stopping periodically to check on a patient. The army nurse, codenamed 'Leech' by an irritated Beach Head after she'd had the misfortune of drawing blood from him once, checked over an unconscious Outback before continuing on her way. On the other side of the infirmary, Doc, Lifeline, and Stretcher were pouring over medical files.<p>

"Don't even know what we're looking for," she heard Stretcher mutter when she drew closer. "This is a needle in a haystack and we don't even know what the needle looks like." Lifeline gave the dark skinned medic a significant look and he shut up. Once Leech walked out of earshot again, the men resume their conversation in low voices.

The greenshirt had no idea what was going on and she certainly couldn't ask. Whatever it was, it was privileged information and she wasn't of a high enough rank to know. The three men were largely operating out of Doc and Lifeline's offices, but a small table had been piled high with thick folders full of documents

"Ahem."

The nurse gave a start and spun around. An unamused Scarlett was waiting impatiently behind her. The red head had a hand pressed to what appeared to be a dislocated shoulder.

"Shoulder's dislocated," the red head told her, stating the obvious. "Snake Eyes wasn't around to help me fix it and the other nurses are busy." Leech swallowed her nervousness and directed the Joe to sit on an infirmary bed. When she'd been assigned to the Pit, Tara hadn't expected that she'd have to deal with _ninjas_. Even though Sgt. Scarlett wasn't exactly a ninja, the woman was close enough.

And the ninjas enjoyed nothing more than scaring the heebie jeebies out of the medical staff and then thwarting any attempt to help them when they were injured. Seemingly miraculous escape attempts by injured ninja seemed to be an increasingly common phenomenon these days, especially now that Storm Shadow had joined the Joes.

Leech expertly slid the shoulder back into place. She then advised the other woman to keep her shoulder iced and to take a pain reliever, but the nurse somewhat doubted that Scarlett would follow her commands.

"I'm fine," Scarlett replied when the nurse tried to give her a packet of Aleve. The red head's eyes drifted over to where the three medics were pouring over files. The army sergeant paused in thought a moment before turning her attention back to Leech.

"You need to ice it at least, ma'am," Tara repeated. "You'll reduce the inflammation and the risk of re-injury that way. I don't think you want Doc or Lifeline on your case if you don't take care of it."

As it nearly always did, the threat of involving one of the medics worked. Scarlett grumbled slightly, but snatched a packet of the pain reliever, ripped it open, and swallowed the pill. Leech gave a small, satisfied smile after the red head had exited. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Against ninjas and half-ninjas, she'd take what she could get.

Leech cast a glance in the direction of the working medics once more before continuing her rounds.

* * *

><p>"<em>I just don't know how we're supposed to find a sleeper agent, Doc…"<em>

Storm Shadow sat frozen in place, hidden in an air ventilation shaft while he listened to Lifeline relay his concerns to the senior medic. He didn't know if he should leave or not. The ninja hadn't entirely meant to listen in on the secret conversation. Scratch that…he _had_ intended on it. Thomas Arashikage was a ninja and a particularly curious and nosy ninja at that. He knew that Hawk had called his medics in for a private discussion and now those medics were working quietly away on something in the infirmary. Tommy couldn't help it if his inquisitive nature had led him to eavesdrop on the whispering men.

"_We don't have a choice,"_ Doc replied. _"We have our orders. It's up to us, at the moment." _Storm Shadow listened as the three medics poured through medical files and discretely discussed what General Hawk had told them in the privacy of the briefing room. They were doing an admirable job of talking quietly, but it was still obvious they were up to something. The three men came to that conclusion as well and split up. Doc returned to his normal duties while Lifeline and Stretcher retreated into one of the offices with the files.

Storm Shadow could still hear every word that was said, however. His sensitive ears easily understood every concerned whisper that was uttered. At least now he understood why General Hawk was so distressed. Even though the general was putting up a good show, Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow had both sensed that something was amiss.

Storm Shadow didn't like it. A stressed out Hawk was bad enough, but he cared even less for the reason why the general was increasingly acting distant. Brainwashed sleeper agents. Tommy scowled. He'd had more than enough of brainwashing to last him seven lifetimes. Not only had Cobra brainwashed him, but they'd managed to do it to Billy and his sword brother. All three of them were now struggling to recover from the very personal violation of their minds.

"_You think Duke or Flint are a possibility?"_ the ninja heard Stretcher ask. _"What about Beach Head?"_ Lifeline replied back with a defense of the sergeant major, but was forced to reluctantly concede that the ranger was as much a suspect as anyone.

The ninja decided that it was time for him to leave. He silently crept through the ventilation shaft while his mind whirred at the new information. What should he do? Tell Snake Eyes? But what if he was a sleeper? Tommy refused to believe that his brother was one. Surely the brainwave scanner would have revealed it during the other ninja's brainwashing?

Or had Cobra discovered it and left it alone? Or was Malthus's program buried so deep that even _Dr. Mindbender _hadn't uncovered it? The ninja felt greatly disturbed as he crawled through the inside of the Pit. Obviously, it was his duty to help the medics…including keeping an eye on them, if necessary.

Tommy knew that he was probably high on the suspect list and he didn't blame them. Former, unbrainwashed Cobra enemy? Check. Brainwashed enemy that had been under mental control for years? Check. Psyche Out was entirely convinced that Storm Shadow was still emotionally and mentally unstable from his ordeal. Much as the ninja would verbally deny it, the shrink wasn't incorrect.

He was still having nightmares. Sometimes, the ninja would even have to fight down a sudden panic attack and remind himself that he was free now. Cobra wasn't controlling him anymore.

No, Hawk wasn't going to trust him with this, which was why he had gone to noncombatants outside of the chain of command for help. Storm Shadow realized that he was going to have to conduct his own, private investigation. The trick was going to be not letting the medics, Billy, his sword brother and his red headed Amazon, or Hawk in on it.

Storm Shadow debated on who to spy on first. He flipped a coin between Flint and Duke. The nickel landed heads up and the ninja headed towards Duke's office. If Snake Eyes asked him what he was doing, Tommy was sure that he could come up with a reasonable excuse.

Perhaps gremlins were hiding in the top sergeant's office. Yes, that sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse. After all, no self-respecting Joe would allow gremlins to spy on and possibly attack their second in command. It was ludicrous.

Oh yeah, Snake Eyes totally wasn't going to buy that excuse. It would still be hilarious though. He could almost hear the conversation now…

"_I was protecting him from gremlins, brother. It's a totally reasonable excuse to be spying on Duke."_

_*Shut up, Tommy.*_

Oh yes, if nothing else, the conversation would provide him with some entertainment.

* * *

><p>Psyche Out stood uncomfortably outside the entrance to Duke's office. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting. An inner voice urged him to just to keep quiet. However, his better 'angel' reminded him of his duty and the dangers of keeping silent.<p>

He knocked on the half open door and Duke's voice gave him permission to come in. Kenneth Rich hid his discomfort as he stepped into the top sergeant's office. The NCO looked weary, which was unsurprising, seeing as Duke was busy with a problem that was brewing in the Congo, as well as with the Malthus affair. In just a few glances, Psyche Out immediately determined that the man was tired, but still relatively alert. He took a deep breath. The psychiatrist wasn't looking forward to this meeting.

"May I close the door?" Kenneth asked quietly. "I'd…rather this be quiet." Duke gave him a questioning look, but nodded his head toward the door. Psyche Out shut it quietly before waiting for permission to sit. Duke gave it to him and the shrink immediately handed the man the file he'd brought in. Psyche Out watched the top sergeant open the folder to look at its contents.

Kenneth knew what he was looking at, even if Duke didn't. He'd already stared at it numerous times.

"You've read the report I submitted on Malthus's associates, correct?" He asked tentatively. Duke nodded his head. The blonde sergeant set the file down and interlaced his fingers. Conrad Hauser waited for his subordinate to continue.

"Her name's Rachel Tam," Psyche Out continued. Here it was, the part he had been dreading. "I….I have a close connection to her. We've…been romantically involved….I had no idea that she'd worked with Malthus…" Duke raised an eyebrow at him before a slight frown crossed his face.

"This is serious, Psyche Out," the man said. "Not only does this possibly bias you in your investigation…for all we know, Tam could have purposely sought you out to use you."

"I know," Kenneth replied, feeling slightly ill. His throat felt uncomfortably dry.

He still couldn't believe that Rachel was a Malthus crony. His heart refused to believe that she was just using him. Psyche Out had been trying to rationalize ways that she could have been out of the loop, but his ever intelligent mind kept telling him to stop. She'd worked directly underneath Malthus for three years. There was no way that he could argue that Rachel was possibly uninvolved with any of the former Juggler's illegal exploits.

"I'll have to discuss this with Hawk, Flint, and Lady Jaye," Duke told him. "However…it's very possible that we may have you meet with her in the near future." Kenneth felt a sudden jolt. Duke wanted him to _what?_

"….What?" Psyche Out asked. "Are you sure that….why? Aren't I compromised?"

"This is a good opportunity for us to fish her for information," Duke told him. "I apologize Kenneth, but it has to be done, regardless of your feelings. Lady Jaye will brief you on how to approach it. I'll call you after I have a chance to talk to the others. Dismissed."

Psyche Out left the office, unaware that a certain ninja had overheard the conversation. A nauseous feeling settled into his stomach. He was going to meet with Rachel. He was going to meet with a woman he loved, who was possibly using him, and attempt to outthink and manipulate her.

Life just plain sucked sometimes.

* * *

><p>Waiting. He hated waiting. Cobra Commander shifted his leg while he and his newest associate, General Malthus, discussed certain possibilities. The man was still refusing to give all his information to Cobra. It was understandable, of course. If Cobra Commander had been in his shoes, he would be holding back an Ace as well.<p>

It was still infuriating.

"If we are to be business 'associates,'" the terrorist leader began again. "There are certain trust issues involved." He leaned a fraction in Malthus's direction. "Certain information that must be shared. You giving control of the Odysseus Project to me was part of our deal. Cobra extracted you from Leavenworth. Now it's time for you to uphold your end of the bargain."

"In time, dear Cobra Commander," the other man replied. Malthus didn't appear to be the least bit concerned by the Cobra leader's agitation. "Good things come to those who wait. Right now, I want Hawk to sweat a bit before we act."

Hmph. It wasn't the Cobra Commander didn't enjoy that thought, but since he couldn't see the man actually stress, it wasn't very satisfying. He wanted chaos and carnage, suspicion and finger pointing. He wanted the Joes to break at the seams.

"But Hawk does know about the program, yes?" Cobra Commander asked smoothly. "Which means that he's aware that there are sleepers outside of GI Joe and inside. I don't exactly like the idea of him looking for them."

"He won't find them," Malthus replied bluntly. "I've buried them too deep. He can look, but he'll never find any of them…not until it's too late."

Cobra Commander decided to content himself with that for now. They had purposely leaked to Hawk about the sleeper program in the hopes that it would cause him to start distrusting his Joes. From what they could tell, it was working. Theodore Yun had performed his duty admirably.

No, for now they waited. Being an impatient man and practical man, however, Cobra Commander didn't want to give Hawk any opportunity to possibly spoil the fun. After a few more days of making the man fret, the terrorist leader planned on moving the game to the next level.

* * *

><p>Theodore Yun set down the phone and sat back in his chair. General Crowther wanted to meet with him again. The army colonel sipped on his green tea a moment as he thought back on the last few days. Remzi and Harris both thought that he'd betrayed Malthus for Hawk. It wasn't the least bit true, regardless of appearances.<p>

The Korean American decided to bide his time by reading the Art of War. Despite being over two thousand years old, the ancient book was still relevant. He flipped a page and reread the section on weak points and strong:

"_O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible, and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands."_

Right now, General Hawk probably still regarded him with some suspicion because of his past association with Malthus. However, Teddy had given the man enough true information to get some of his trust. Since Clayton Abernathy now had to be suspicious of his fellow Joes and others in the government, he had no choice but to work with Theodore Yun.

Yun closed the book after a moment. He'd done his part by moving the chess pieces and setting up the game for his general. Now, it was up to Malthus to play.

He cracked his neck and opened the book again. The Korean American had lied to Hawk about his involvement with the Odysseus Project, of course. Yun had been involved with it from the start and even had his own codename: Sinon. He had been responsible for bringing the Joe in after Malthus had made his decision. With help from "Athena", Yun had strapped the soldier down and had personally applied the procedure.

The soldier had screamed and pleaded at first. They all did, except for the rare sleepers who had actually volunteered for the program.

Deciding that it was time, Teddy Yun cleaned up in the lavatory and put on his jacket. Forty-five minutes later, he was waiting outside of a restaurant in downtown Washington D.C. Fifteen minutes later, a hard faced general was greeting him.

"Yun," General Crowther greeted roughly. "You'd better have some good news."

The two men sat and drank coffee. To all appearances, they appeared to be two associates having a social visit. However, the two men used codewords that they'd agreed upon with Clayton Abernathy. Yun relayed to the Juggler that no, he hadn't yet found any clues to where Malthus was hiding and that, yes, he would immediately tell Crowther and Abernathy if he was contacted by the man.

Deciding that he needed to give Crowther something, Teddy purposefully let slip a minor detail. Malthus had a safe house in North Carolina. It was no longer used and therefore there was no harm in giving it up. Yun knew there would be enough evidence, if the Joes looked into it, to tie the safe house to the former Juggler without endangering the mission.

When he got back to his hotel room that night, Yun played "Sweet Caroline" twice before bed. That was his code for telling Malthus that the North Carolina safe house was a 'no go' now, without making anyone else suspicious. Yun knew that his room was bugged, most likely by Hawk and Crowther as a precaution. He also knew that Cobra and Malthus were keeping an eye on him.

Eventually, "Sinon" received a coded message on a hidden transmitter. The message simply said:

"_Understood."_

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter notes:<span>_

_Thanks to willwrite4fics for betaing and offering comments. Also, I'd like to thank NurseKelly for helping me with the medical related things. Also, Leech is an OC that I created for this story. As a thank you for the help with medical injuries and etc, I gave NurseKelly the opportunity to come up with Leech's real name. I credit "Tara" to her, while I came up with the surname._

_Also, the chapter title of 'Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts' refers to Theodore Yun._


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